


peek-a-boo.

by ansutazu



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Mild Horror, no one really dies but it's Implied so i just put it htere, uuuh i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 22:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12921525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ansutazu/pseuds/ansutazu
Summary: tag, you’re it! it’ll be fun, i like you; till the moon hangs on the jungle gym, let’s play a little more! // keichi au. one-shot.





	peek-a-boo.

**Author's Note:**

> based off of peek-a-boo by red velvet which is!! i've had on repeat for two weeks!!! super good!!! it's 12am again what am i doing!!

Delivering pizza was meant to be an almost passive job until he was able to truly make a living off of making manga, and although most of the time he knocks and leaves, he didn’t mind taking the additional tip here and there; in this area, the customers give money generously, for the roots of wealth had spread generously throughout the entire neighborhood, bank accounts tapped with immense riches unimaginable to this simple pizza delivery boy, making his nightly rounds once more.

There was a particular house that drew his attention, however — a mansion that looms over the rest, the front gates wrapped with red roses that threaten to take a bite out of him with their sharp thorns. A stone wall surrounds the entire property, the place looking eerily strange with droopy trees and overgrown hedges on display just beyond the boundary, the garden exterior looking exceedingly unkempt while the the walls and pillars of the eighties-esque mansion remained in pristine condition.

He opens the gate, the creak of the rusting iron grinding agains the hinges creating an unpleasant sound. _I’m not getting paid enough for this,_ he muses to himself, looking up for just a second at the full moon that hung above him in the night sky, fog rolling across the scenery and masking the moon’s light just a little bit. It gives the whole place an even chillier feeling, and Keito turns his head back to the front door, gripping the pizza boxes in his hand, resigning to just get this delivery over with so that he can rush to his car and get out of the increasingly freaky place.

He approaches the door, but he doesn’t knock right away. Instead, the sound of someone singing draws his attention, something that sounded as if it came down from the heavens itself, an angel possessing the voice akin to nothing he’s ever heard before — and it enticed him, it lured him, and with the pizza growing cold, he walks over to the nearby window, the front porch’s floor creaking as he takes one cautious step after another.

When he peeks in, he couldn’t bear to look away, to tear away from the scene he’d witnessed.

There was a boy sitting atop a table, candles surrounding him as hooded figures circled the table — whether or not they were chanting or saying something, he could not hear. The voice — he’d come to the conclusion that it was the blonde’s — continued to resound even if it was coming from the inside, crystal clear in his ears as he continued to watch. The blonde looked up and out into the window, his blue eyes locking with Keito’s — and he _smiles_ , a captivating grin that completely hooked the delivery boy at that moment to never look away. He then lifts a flower in his hand, a flower that seemed to be a lotus from Keito’s point of view, and puts it close to his mouth, taking a bite out of it and chewing on the petals and shrouding himself with even more mystery as the curtains are closed.

He blinks — what exactly did he just see?

But then he blinks again, and now _he’s_ sitting on top of the table, the candles incredibly close to his feet, the wax dripping slowly onto his shoes as he was now somehow _inside_ the mansion, as if transported through the window and replacing the blonde’s spot in this rather peculiar position.

He looks around, confused, the boxes of pizza that he had sitting on top of other boxes from other companies, the smell of cheese and pepperoni and dough mixing and wafting towards his nose, overwhelming all of his senses; in front of him the blonde stands now, donned in fancy yet somewhat playful attire, a vibrant shade red accenting his choice of clothing. Though it looked elegant, he looked like he was portraying a child with his wardrobe; somehow, he made it work, the style all the more reminiscent of _le petit prince_.

The blonde steps closer, closer — and then leans forward on his tiptoes, his hands on the table for balance, just inches away from Keito’s face, and god, does his heart feel like its leaping out of his chest. It was a type of allure he couldn’t snap out of, something that kept him snared despite being nothing but a simple pizza delivery boy.

“You’re _really_ interesting, aren’t you?” The blonde laughs, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear. Keito gulps — was this the beginning of falling in love? No, to say something hasty like that, it was incorrigible…but there was definitely something budding in his chest, something warm that he can’t quite ignore. “Stubborn, a stick in the mud, composed — a little too much, I think. There are times when you should relax, you know, times when you should let yourself rest at ease. How about this…~? How about we play a game? It’s pretty simple, I think, a simple game of tag. What do you say? Fufu…tag, you’re it, Keito!”

He couldn’t quite process what happened next. He was completely enticed with the sound of his name coming out of the blonde’s mouth, and before he knew it, the blonde was holding his hand, pulling down from the table and then letting go, _teasing_ him and telling him to run, to get a head start, they were playing tag!

And Keito — he _went along_ , completely in and out of his senses as he began to run through the entire mansion, evading the blonde in the kitchen and almost getting caught in the living room. Once he’s circled the first floor, he looks behind him, and he finds the blonde still in tow. Without much haste, he begins to climb the stairs up to the second floor, panting and rushing fervently in this game he was forced in.

Keito runs down the hall, the blonde’s laugh ringing in his ears as he rushes along, taking a left and —

There were multiple glass displays of them, of shirts taken from none other than pizza delivery boys.

“What — ?”

“Ah, you found out…”

Eichi stops just a few feet in front of him, panting just a little bit. Keito whips around, suddenly struck with a heavy feeling of _fear_ , the sight of what his fate could have been sealed and shown in front of him, much to his dismay. Why did he look inside the window? Why did he keep watching? Why did he let himself get dragged into this game of tag? He’d gotten _distracted_ , he should have just stuck to his job! He should have just rang the doorbell, asked for the money, and left, stepping on the gas as much as possible, getting away from this neighborhood whose roots were now turning bad. The blonde lifts his head up, his smile now all-too knowing and mischievous. He does _not_ want to be the next victim, he does not want to be yet just another piece of prey for this fallen angel.

To let this blonde he’s known for just a few minutes into his heart, to wrap his fingers around it and crush it with his hands, to lure him into his mansion’s trap — he wasn’t very sharp for doing so, was he? A part of him curses himself out, a part of him scolds himself, lectures himself, lets him know that what he’s done was free from any rational thought whatsoever, and that if he _did_ make it out alive, he’d be very, _very_ lucky to do so, for this was just a stupid mistake, something he’s got to get out of quickly.

The smell of pizza fills the air again, and now he backs away as the blonde brandishes a dagger in one hand and a blindfold in another, now beginning to approach Keito at a slow pace.

“Listen — I’m just a pizza delivery guy,” Keito says, putting his hands up as the blond draws closer, closer, _closer_. “What’s the point of doing all this, of putting your killings on display? What’s the point of any of this? Hey, _answer me_ , tell me what exactly is going on — otherwise, I won’t let this slide.”

He freezes, the blonde freezes, and once again, they’re both face to face, but a few inches apart, but with a dagger so closely pointed at Keito’s throat.

And then the blonde replies, not a single sign of a smile apparent on his face.

“Come back, Keito.”

* * *

“…Are you okay?”

Keito blinks again, and he finds himself outside of the mansion, holding his boxes of pizza once again. This time, the table with candles was gone, the window he’d peeked into showing no signs of the ritual. The front door was open, and the blonde — it was a frequent customer, Eichi — was waving a hand in front of Keito’s face, blue eyes showing the most gentlest of concerns for the pizza delivery boy.

Ah, somehow it comes back to him, that this house was one that he frequents due to the owner, the heir of the Tenshouin business, Eichi Tenshouin. He’d simply deliver things without really wanting to get into a conversation with him, but as he kept being called over for pizza, he found himself opening up to the boy’s attempts at talking, and actually replying. He found himself completely irritated with Eichi’s carefree nature, the way he stubbornly wants to live life as he sees fit, the way he acts in a way he’s never seen before.

Perhaps that charming nature Eichi had was apparent even in both that strange dream he had and in reality. Perhaps, dare he say it, that those feelings that he felt that had spurred at that moment were actually real, the buds of a hopeful, youthful romance having formed in this reality.

Reality — ah, so that’s what it was. _This_ was his reality all along, and what had happened before was a _dream_ , something out of the ordinary, but not totally real. Ah, the fear that was struck in him — all for naught, it seemed, but it was still a rather curious case. He looks at the blonde for just a little bit more, adjusting to this setting, nodding and pushing Eichi’s back to his side as a sign, a way of showing that he was totally alright now.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just saw something weird.” Keito rubbed his eyes, handing over the box to Eichi with his usual scowl on his face.

Eichi smiled, handing Keito the money he owed. He then looked up at the full moon above them, tilting his head to the side as he did. Keito, wondering what he was looking for, looked up as well, the fog as thick as ever like in his dream.

“Something weird, huh? Well, Keito, you’re certainly something else. Could it be inspiration for a manga? Or could it be something else?”

“I’m not exactly sure _what_ it was — but if I was going to write about it, then…you’d have to be in it, Eichi.”

“Me? Why me?”

“You were in it too, you know.” Keito was the first to pull away from the moon, his gaze returning to Eichi, who returns the gesture and widens his smile. “You were…strangely enough in it, but the role you played was something out of the ordinary.”

“Fufu, will I get to hear it one day, Keito?” Eichi laughs, the sound of it being exactly the same like in his dream. The comparison both mystifies and terrifies Keito, but — this was certainly reality, wasn’t it? “Or maybe just even a snippet of it? Even if it’s just that, I think I’ll be satisfied. I’ll stop pestering you, how about that?”

“Well…” Keito scratches the back of his head, but that was _just_ a dream, wasn’t it? Then there was no harm in telling him the things that he remembered. “You made me play a game.”

“Is that so?”

Eichi continued to hold the pizza box in his hand — but a dagger in the other, hidden discretely behind his back. He smiled once more, and though he loves the boy just the same, there were some things that he had to fulfill under the full moon, some things he had to fulfill in the fate he was bound in. The ending of this ‘game’ was truly twisted; it hurt him to think about it, but he was able to at least stay with him a little longer in some sort of fever dream.

He was truly sorry from the bottom of his heart.

“You’re it, Keito.”


End file.
